


Hate

by PrinceofFlowers



Category: Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Cyrus is such a fucking self-hating prick, Gay Sex, Just smooch ur BF and go to therapy ffs, Left kinda ambiguous so like reader/OC can be trans, M/M, Self-Hatred, as in u can envision a trans man or a cis man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 05:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12741876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofFlowers/pseuds/PrinceofFlowers
Summary: Cyrus hates spirit, and wants to create a reality in which there is no spirit.Ironically, spirit is the force he uses to do this, and spirit is what fuels his desire to do this.





	Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Yall he's verse with his bf.
> 
> They bang.
> 
> This is honestly p damn depressing tho, just saying.

Over all things, Cyrus hated spirit.

Emotions, feelings-

He hated them.

More importantly, he hated how he had them.

Cyrus hated how it made him weak.

Logic was the only way to escape all the woes of the world in his mind, and he longed for logic and logic alone to rule over this world and all of its creatures.

That is why he strove for his new reality.

However, there were always obstacles in his way.

Obstacles born of spirit.

Cyrus hated that man.

He was the embodiment of all Cyrus hated-

Everything he hated about the world, and about himself.

He toiled under the oppressive grasp of spirit- the marks of such struggles decorated his skin by means of white and pink scars on his arms and thighs.

His memories and his abuses equal, if not more, than what Cyrus himself had experienced.

And yet...

He continued on living, embracing what Cyrus had pushed away, proving his strength to survive and thrive.

A strength that Cyrus did not possess.

And he hated it.

Cyrus hated him.

However, as much as he hated him, he also, in his own way, loved him more than anyone.

Respected him, even.

And Cyrus hated that, too.

Even more, he hated how much he loved the feeling of his skin against his.

Kisses that were more teeth than tongue, actions speaking louder than any words either could form.

Cyrus had always hated how illogical he himself was.

How he even allowed this doomed relationship to start, and how it'd end horribly for both of them.

Normally he'd brood over his self-hatred and every little thing wrong with him, and the man with him, but his partner had other ideas.

Wicked, illogical ideas ruled by spirit, and Cyrus was helpless against them.

He could always deny him; Cyrus knew how much consent meant to his partner, and how he'd respect it regardless of how far they had gone or how many times they had been together.

However, they both knew that he wouldn't.

Not when he was buried in his man, or when his man was buried in him, Cyrus arching back and moaning like a bitch in heat as he rutted against him, stretching him and stroking him until he'd cum with a hoarse cry.

It was only in those moments, as frenzied and heated as they were, that Cyrus would forget.

Forget about his pain, his sorrow, his hatred.

There was only him, and the man, and the two enjoying one another.

Come morning, he would be gone, and Cyrus would be left again to his personal demons.

Left to mull over the sick irony of their relationship and his goals.

For as much as Cyrus wanted to deny it, he loved that man, and that only made him want his reality even more.

He could not fail; he needed to build a better world, free from spirit.

Then neither of them would hurt anymore.

No one ever would.

**Author's Note:**

> NO PROOFREADING WE DIE LIKE MEN


End file.
